It Came Upon A Midnight Clear
by CycloneT
Summary: He watched the lights twinkle; happy and sparkling and rhythmic, and tried to remember what his life had been like before.


Notes: Written for the Christmas fic-a-thon at ci_fans_unite.  
Prompt: It came upon the midnight clear.  
I had no idea where this came from so I had to google it. After listening to it this is what I came up with. Enjoy.

XxX

Goren took a step back, puzzled, and studied his surroundings. The living room was warm and cosy, cluttered with family photos and memorabilia. There were books – so many books – on the shelves, interspaced with family albums and assorted knick knacks. The couch looked worn but comfortable; the kind of couch that was big enough for even him to fall asleep on. Carols floated softly around the room, and the tree almost took his breath away. It was large and lush and weighted with colourful lights and ornaments that had been obviously been lovingly and carefully placed just so.

He watched the lights twinkle; happy and sparkling and rhythmic, and tried to remember what his life had been like before. Before everything had changed, before the path that he'd been travelling had veered suddenly to the left, before all the roadblocks and bombshells had propelled him into a semi-permanent state of shock. He couldn't though, and he thought that maybe that was a good thing. This is what his life was now and there was no use trying to remember otherwise. He'd accepted it, and even though the thought that he might not deserve it sometimes rattled around in his too-busy head, he always tried to quash it. There was no use pondering what was, or what might have been, because he was in this place now and he was here to stay.

He shook those thoughts away and brought his mind back to the task at hand. Eames was staring at him with that _'I don't know where you went but you'd better get your ass back here now' _look on her face, and he realised that if he didn't start paying more attention he'd soon have some explaining to do.

He cleared his throat and arranged his face into what he hoped was a respectful look. "Pretty," he said, motioning to the tree.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "That's the best you can come up with? Pretty?"

The other pair of eyes in the room narrowed. He didn't want to offend their owner, so he elaborated. "Glorious. Stupendous. The best tree I've ever seen. By far."

Eames chuckled and turned her attention back to the tree. "I'd have to agree with you there, it's a beautiful tree. Although it is missing something."

Three pairs of eyes were now locked on the top of the tree.

"Angel," he said softly. "It's missing the angel."

He never used to believe in angels. Angels were for people who had faith; faith in a higher power, faith in a benevolent God, faith that everything happened for a reason, and that was not him. Somewhere along the way he'd lost the ability to see miracles and had witnessed too much human depravity to believe that tiny beings with nothing better to do were watching over him, guiding him in his struggles and protecting him from harm. He thought it was a nice idea, certainly, but since he dealt in the harsh world of humanity that didn't leave much room for blind faith.

And then one day he'd asked for something that he really didn't think he had a snowballs chance in hell of getting. She'd said yes though, and that one word made him reconsider everything. Because that 'yes, I'll have dinner with you' turned into 'yes, let's move in together' which morphed into the most important yes of all; 'yes, I'll marry you' and God or angels or the universe had to have had something to do with that, because he didn't think that he, Robert Goren, could snag a woman like Alex Eames all by himself. Especially not after everything that he'd been through; everything he'd put _her_ through. He had to have had help. That was okay though, because whoever or whatever it was was on his side, and after the dust had settled and he'd placed the ring on her finger, he realised that he did believe in angels after all. His particular angel came with a badge, a gun, and the attitude to use them both, and he didn't care that she didn't fit the traditional image of a supernatural being with gossamer wings. She still had his back, protected him from himself, and loved him unconditionally. So what if she could swear like a trooper and drink him under the table? She was his, and he wouldn't have it – have her – any other way.

He looked at the clock – midnight. It seemed fitting, somehow, that the last decoration be placed now. Midnight used to be a lonely time, before his life changed. Before an angel with a gun called him a dumbass and dared him to take a chance.

"Can I do it, mommy?" a small voice pleaded.

He smiled as his wife lifted their daughter and delicately placed the angel on top of the tree. His daughter; blonde, like his wife. Tiny, like his wife. And she had the beginnings of a sassy, no-nonsense attitude, just like his wife. No, he mused, as she ran over to him and threw herself into his arms, his life wasn't supposed to turn out like this. But since fate had placed him in the presence of three angels, he wasn't going to question it anymore.

End


End file.
